The Door
by Blithe Novelties
Summary: His metal chiding faded into the background, replaced by a now overwhelming need to open the door. Without a mere second thought, Arthur turned the knob, his breath catching in his throat. What discoveries would he make? Why hadn't anyone lived here in almost a century? What if there was a murder here? What if...? AU-Human names used; based off of a post on Tumblr


**AN: ****_Hetalia-AU; Human names used._**

**Based off of a post on Tumblr by x-paranormal (about there being several doors scattered everywhere, and upon opening them you enter this open space; people from all time periods are there and clocks litter the room, but they count backwards; there's a statue garden in the center and if you stay past zero, it's said that they move, etc I'm sure if you look for it, you can find it), but with a twist. To which I claim no credit of, nor do I claim credit of Hetalia. I would also like to mention that there are references in here as well, and, as with the previous, I in no way claim credit of their creations.**

**Everything in this fanfiction belongs to its rightful owners.**

**I would also like to apologize for not using a Read More despite the length of this fic; for some reason, Read Mores haven't been working for me-the text I place under it seems to disappear for some odd reason...**

****APH: The Door:

It was simply a normal door, or rather, it _seemed_ as if it were simply a normal door. No one had ever given it too much thought-and why should they care about the trivial things like doors to houses that haven't been occupied in at least one hundred years? Most people were too wrapped up in their own trifling nonsense to care about someone else's.

Arthur Kirkland, however, was fascinated by the house, and had been since the first time he had laid his grassy colored eyes upon it; long hours were spent fantasizing about who must have lived there, what they had done for a living, if they had ever moved, and if so, had they ever missed the house of their youth...Another thing that thrilled him was the fact that it would be a fairly decent place to go ghost hunting, despite the fact that it wasn't nearly as old as other buildings in England were.

However, the one thing above the rest that intrigued the blonde was the back door; each time he passed the house, he felt a strange, almost magnetic draw towards it, his slender fingers itching to wrap around the brass knob and push the door open. Normally, he could fight it, distracting his mind with other thoughts until the house was out of sight, but one night, on his way home from work, the urge proved too strong, and Arthur found himself standing in front of the very door that had plagued his mind for years.

Strangely enough, there was a key in the lock, as if someone had somehow found out about his strange, almost burning desire to walk through the mahogany door. _Oh hush, you're only making yourself look suspicious, standing in front of this door. Besides, the car's still running..._

His metal chiding faded into the background, replaced by a now overwhelming need to open the door. Without a mere second thought, Arthur turned the knob, his breath catching in his throat. What discoveries would he make? Why hadn't anyone lived here in almost a century? What if there was a murder here? What if...?

When the door opened, he was met with quite a shocking site; instead it of being the inside of a dusty, cobweb littered house, he was met with the sight of what looked like the interior of a sparkling, golden palace. "Bloody hell..." pocketing the key, he wandered inside, jumping only when the door shut gently behind him. The idea that he might never leave was a fleeting one, as the contents of the place were rather distracting.

On all of the walls, for as long as they went on, were doors of all kinds. Modern clocks, antique clocks, devices that didn't even look like clocks or anything Arthur had ever seen before were scattered about the floor, ticking away merrily, while, in the very center of the room stood a statue garden. The Englishman shuddered; he wasn't too fond of statues, especially angels. After watching the Doctor Who episodes with the Weeping Angels, Arthur could hardly stand to be in the same room of a statue of any kind, as foolish as that might be. "They seem harmless enough, though..." he muttered, not daring too look away for even a second.

_Tick._

However, he did tear his gaze away, when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a man in an outfit that looked like it came out of the American Revolution. _Curiouser and curiouser, _he mused, chuckling slightly under his breath; everything here did seem as if it would belong in Wonderland.

With a second look around the room, the blonde saw more people, some of whom looked as if they had come straight from the past, others from the present, and still others who were wearing utterly bizarre outfits that seemed to have come from a science fiction movie. The only possible explanation the man could come up with was that they, like himself, had found a door that had led them here.

Here and there, he caught snippets of conversations others were having.

"We don't have countries in my time," a man who would have been thought of as Japanese in Arthur's time told a modern day dressed young girl who had her short blonde hair tied up with a purple ribbon. "After the discovery of the Higg's Boson particle, there was limitless power and poverty was ended..."

"No poverty? That doesn't sound too bad. It sounds nice, actually," the girl quipped, her voice laced with a heavy German accent.

"Not nice," the would-be-Japanese-man shook his head. "The entire world is ruled under a single communist power. And anyone who disagrees with the government is taken away, and never heard from again."

"Oh! That sounds awful!"

Weaving his way through the crowds, Arthur saw more interesting groups of people chatting away, and still others with difficulty communicating because of not having a lingua franca with which to talk.

_Tick._

Every so often, the clocks in the room would chime; it was just after the second chime since his arrival, that Arthur heard the heavy footfalls of someone running. "You, sir!" a frantic voice-presumably American-called from somewhere far behind him. "Sir with the bushy eyebrows!"

"Yes?" cocking one of those thick brows, Arthur turned around to meet whomever had wanted his attention. "What is it?"

Panting, the man he had seen earlier made his way over to him. "Your key, sir, it fell out of your trouser pocket. You shouldn't be inside without it."

"Er...thank you...?"

"Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones," the young colonist said, placing the key firmly in Arthur's palm, before giving his hand a firm shake. The corners of Lieutenant Jones's eyes crinkled as a smile found its way onto his face.

"Ah," Arthur cleared his throat, pulling his hand out of the other's grasp. "Thank you...Lieutenant Jones. I'm Arthur Kirkland; pleased to make your acquaintance"

Jones laughed, a booming guffaw that turned several eyes toward the two. "While you might've been a Loyalist, Kirkland, I can tell you're not. Your clothes are too odd for you to have been where I'm from. You can call me Alfred."

"...Quite." This man had too much of a rambunctious air for Arthur to take. However, at least he was a decent enough human being to return his key, instead of taking it for himself. "One question, why shouldn't I be inside without my key? I can get outside without it, correct? What I mean to say is, it's not dangerous, is it?"

Alfred shrugged, "I haven't the slightest idea. I do know that last time I was here, someone told me it wasn't the wisest idea to be without it." His blue eyes darted towards the nearest clock, and widened upon catching the time; the clocks chimed twice.

_Tick._

"I didn't realize it was that late," he mumbled, before throwing his companion an apologetic glance. "Sorry for having to leave, but I really must be going. You ought to be heading back to your own door-it's more difficult to return here if you leave through another-as well, but take care to leave the key inside before leaving."

"I...pardon?" Before Arthur could ask any more, Alfred had fled, disappearing into the throng of people exiting the room.

Another, louder chime sounded, and the lights began to dim. "I wonder what all of the fuss is about..." Nonetheless, he began feeling unnerved as he made his way back to his own door.

_Tick._

A final chime, and the room went completely dark, with the only light coming from the cracks under the doors and the keyholes. Arthur tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Come on, come on, open you blasted thing!" No matter how many times he tried jiggling the knob, it refused to open.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Brit saw movement in the center of the room, from where the statues had been; he had been the only person left inside when the lights had went off.

Hysterical now, he tried kicking the door down, but, like his previous attempts, it was futile; a lump forming in his throat, Arthur turned, shakily, back towards the room's center, squeezed his eyes shut, and waited for the end.

**XxX**

The following morning, a car, its battery dead, was found on the side of the road, near a house which had had no inhabitants for nearly a century; hours later, it was discovered to be belonging to the local university English professor, Arthur Kirkland, who had mysteriously disappeared, leaving no trace behind him. Years passed, and, with no leads, Arthur was presumed dead, and his case dropped.

Those who dare enter one of those peculiar doors will tell anyone who won't think them as crazy, that while, it was interesting to talk to people from different time periods, the statutes at the center of the room unnerved them during their entire visit.

Of the fate of those who enter and do not return, we will never know, but we can guess that the wisest thing to do would be to leave before the clocks strike zero. And, if worst comes to worst, and you don't meet the deadline...

_Don't blink._


End file.
